Sword Art Online – Progressive - Volume 8 - Chapter 16

16

I THOUGHT THERE WAS NO WAY IT COULD BE SOONER than thirty minutes, but it only took fifteen before I heard the sounds of feet approaching through the grass.

Through the branches of the bush, I could see two figures descending the hill toward me. They couldn’t see me inside the bush—they were just following the location marker on their map—but just in case, I stared until their cursors appeared, so I could read their names.

The green cursor in the front belonged to ARGO. But the yellow one behind it was KIO.

“Huh…?”

I checked the lykaon’s remaining HP, then rushed out of the undergrowth.

“Argo, over here!” I waved. The info dealer trotted closer, wearing her usual hood.

“Kii-boy, I gotta tell ya…” she started, looking exasperated.

But I cut her off. “Thanks, sorry, talk more later.” Then I turned to Kio.

The tall maid strode smoothly down the hill, dressed for battle with her breastplate, armored skirt, and estoc. Her hair was parted to the side, and the look in her eyes was the most dangerous I’d seen from her yet.

I came to a sudden standstill, feeling slightly intimidated. Kio said, “Kirito, why have you snuck into the Korloy family stables and removed the Rusty Lykaon from their possession?”

“I’ll give you a full explanation later; there’s no time now. Did you bring what I asked for?”

“…Right here.”

From a large leather sack on her belt, Kio removed a container shaped like a wine bottle. In fact, it was a used wine bottle. A milky white liquid filled it to the stopper, shining like a pearl in the sunlight. Based on the size of the bottle, there had to be at least a pint in there.

“Is that the decolorant…? I thought you said there was only going to be a tiny bottle of it.”

“If it had sat for three hours as planned, it would have condensed down to a third of this size. If we use all of this, the effect should still be the same,” Kio explained. She looked from the bottle to me and asked the natural follow-up. “I have brought the solution as Lady Nirrnir bade me…but why do you need it if you have already removed the lykaon from the stable? What would be the point of returning its fur to normal now?”

“That’s a good question,” I admitted, pausing to consider how to answer her. I told the two, “Uh, give me a moment.”

Then I glanced around, ensuring nobody else was nearby, and snuck back into the bush. The lykaon was still lying on its side under the branches. Its HP bar was down to 15 percent. It felt as though the rate of decrease was speeding up as it got closer to the end.

“I’m going to save you now,” I said, an encouragement I couldn’t guarantee, and crawled over, sliding my hands under the lykaon so I could flip it onto its other side with my elbows and knees. Then I crawled backward, holding the creature, and stood up.

“Nwa!” yelped Argo, leaping backward. It seemed like an overreaction to a dying dog, but it was a proper monster, I supposed. Maybe her reaction was the correct one.

Kio seemed unaffected by the sight, so I approached her and quickly explained, “It seems like the Rubrabium Dye they used to color its fur has toxic properties, and it got inside a wound. It’s going to die soon. If we don’t bleach out the dye right now…”

Kio’s brows knit. But it wasn’t because she was especially concerned for the lykaon.

“Rubrabium…Yes, that flower is poisonous. I assume they could not find a better dye to match the proper color. It is a very dangerous substance, however.”

“Right, so use that decolorant to…”

“Why?”

“Huh?” I gaped.

She snapped, “Why would you try to save that lykaon? It is not some dog or cat like people keep as pets—or a beast of burden like cattle and horses. It is a true monster. It might be under the effect of Bardun Korloy’s ability for now, but when that wears off, it will attempt to tear out your throat. And even if the ability stays in place, it cannot be returned to the Korloy stables, and because they will suspect Lady Nirrnir’s involvement, it cannot be given to her for retraining and entered into the arena. What is the purpose of using our valuable bleach on its fur now?”

That was the same question I’d been asking myself—as I jumped into the cage, as I fled here, and as I waited for Argo in the bushes. Ultimately, there was no logical reason for what I had done. The best thing I could say was…

“…If Asuna were here, she would have done the same thing,” I muttered. Kio’s eyes narrowed, and she gave me a piercing stare.

“How can you insult her profession like that? She is an adventurer like you; she must have killed countless monsters on her journey to Volupta. What makes that lykaon you’re carrying any different from those beasts?”

“Its pride. Its dignity,” I offered.

Kio’s brow furrowed again. “Dignity…?”

“The monsters that Asuna and I have defeated have come to us in top condition, not under anyone’s orders, fighting for their lives. Yes, I’ve killed many monsters, but they had the possibility of killing me, too, and I’ve nearly died on many occasions. But this creature is different. It was chained up inside an underground cell, painted with poisonous dye, and whipped by handlers. Fighting an enemy under equal conditions isn’t the same thing as leaving a tortured animal to slowly die,” I explained as earnestly as I could.

There was one big hypocrisy behind my words, however. In truth, not all monsters attacked players of their own accord. The SAO system merely instructed them to—in fact, most likely they did not have any individual will of their own. Unlike the independent AIs of Kio, Nirrnir, and Kizmel, they were merely a part of a much larger system, and this lykaon was no exception. What I was doing was not fundamentally different from pulling a flower off a tree with one hand and then caressing it with the other.

But even then…

“…I see,” said Kio. She glanced down at the apron dress, then at me again. “I serve Lady Nirrnir with ultimate loyalty, but I am not under the sway of violence, bondage, or unique abilities. I suppose that is what you mean.”

“Um…yeah, more or less.”

“So if you heal that lykaon, and it follows its ‘monster’s dignity,’ as you call it, to attack you—would you draw your sword and kill it?”

It was a tough question, but I had to answer it.

“…Yes. Although it might kill me instead.”

“……Ha.” To my surprise, Kio actually chuckled at my answer. “Ha-ha. You are a strange one. Are all adventuring men like this one, Argo?”

From ten feet away, Argo replied, “Nope, he’s crazier than the rest.”

“That is a relief to hear…Very well. There is no other use for the bleach at this point. You might as well use it,” Kio said, handing me the glass bottle.

I laid down the lykaon on the grass at my feet, then took the bottle with both hands. Perhaps the liquid itself was heavy, because it felt much bigger than a regular wine bottle of the same size.

“Um…don’t I need a brush or something?”

“No. Simply sprinkle the liquid onto it from head to tail, nice and slow.”

“……All right,” I said, pulling out the cork.

I gave it a sniff out of sheer habit. The peculiar, peppery-lychee scent of the narsos fruit was almost entirely gone. I crouched over the lykaon and carefully tilted the bottle.

The pearl-colored liquid, which was just slightly viscous, glooped out onto the lykaon’s head. Its round ears twitched, but it did not react otherwise. I moved the bottle to the right, allowing the liquid to fall onto its neck and body.

Once I’d finished applying the mixture to the end of its long, thin tail, the bottle was empty. The red-dyed fur was shining where the liquid touched it, but it didn’t seem to be washing out the color. In fact, there wasn’t nearly enough of it to finish the job…

But the thought had only just crossed my mind when the liquid suddenly and violently began to bubble. The fine white suds bubbled up rapidly until they covered the lykaon’s entire body.

“H-hey, is this supposed to happen?” I asked Kio in a panic.

The armed maid barely lifted an eyebrow. “Shut up and watch.”

“…Yes, ma’am,” I said, hunching my neck.

The suds rose higher than my knees, sizzling and fizzing, growing and writhing like a living creature. It made me worry that the lykaon underneath might suffocate, but I could see its HP bar through the bubbles, and it was not decreasing at all.

“Oh?!” Argo suddenly exclaimed from her position of distance. My eyes widened, too.

The mound of suds was turning red, starting from the bottom. At first, I thought it was the lykaon’s blood, but when the smell in the air turned sharp and sweet, I realized it was the Rubrabium Dye melting off.

Once the entire mound of suds was dyed red, it began to sink back down, seemingly evaporating into thin air. In just seconds, 70 percent of it was gone, revealing the monster it had initially swallowed.

“Ooh…”

Now it was my turn to exclaim in wonder.

The signature mottled spots on the lykaon’s pelt were still the same, but the muddy-red rusted color was gone. The metal collar still circled its neck, but even the fur underneath had been leached of its dye. The creature’s original color shone silver, a light gray in the sunlight.

After all the dyed suds bubbled and popped away, the lykaon remained prone on the grass, eyes closed. But its labored breathing had calmed. The steady decrease of its HP bar had stopped, too.

I let out the breath I’d been holding, and the front part of the name RUSTY LYKAON melted away from the label under its HP bar, revealing a different descriptor.

STORM LYKAON. Fortunately, this word was within my middle-school-education English level.

“Storm Lykaon…You know anything about these, Argo?” I asked, glancing to my right.

The informant shook her head. “Nope. Never seen one, never heard o’ one.”

“Neither have I…Are you familiar with this creature, Kio?” I continued, turning to her next. The maid shot me a look.

“I am not.”

“What…? I thought the Nachtoy family had a list that ranked all the monsters of the seventh floor.”

“I did not say it was all the monsters,” Kio corrected me, glaring. “What is listed on the rank sheet are merely those monsters of the proper size to fight in the arena’s cage—and that have no special attack methods that might pose a danger to the audience or building.”

“Oh, right…But wouldn’t this Storm Lykaon fit the requirements? The rotating attack it used to beat the Bouncy Slater was surprising, but it didn’t seem likely to destroy the cage.”

“I did not witness this rotating attack you speak of. But…I very much doubt the Korloys would bring out a monster that would destroy the cage itself. Which does make it strange that this Storm Lykaon would not be on the list…” Kio murmured, looking down at the doglike creature.

The HP bar had stopped decreasing, but its health was not recovering from its low position. The lykaon’s eyes remained closed, and it lay still on the ground.

Normally, after a monster took damage from a player in battle, and either side ran away to put an end to the fight, those HP would recover rapidly. Perhaps that would happen for this Storm Lykaon if we left, but the situation was too irregular for me to be certain of that. If it stayed in this condition, a player busy leveling around Volupta would eventually find it and kill it, even if its cursor was only yellow.

Perhaps the only option would be to take it farther away from town, somewhere no player was likely to come anytime soon, I thought—when Kio pulled another bottle out of her pouch.

This one was much smaller than the wine bottle in my hand and had multifaceted cuts in its surface, like gemstone faces. It contained a pink liquid with an orange tint.

“Use this,” she said, holding it out. “It is a healing draft for monsters.”

I stared at the bottle. “Uh…Wh-why do you have this? I thought you were against saving the lykaon…”

“I am. But Lady Nirrnir instructed me to take it. If you won’t use it, I’ll take it back with me.”

“N-no, I will! Thank you!” I said earnestly, bowing my head. I took the bottle and handed back the empty one. Then I leaned over the lykaon and asked, “Um…Will this still have an effect if I give it?”

I was trying to suss out if I needed some kind of monster-healing skill to make it work, without actually saying so, but Kio looked as though I was being ridiculous.

“Why would the person holding the bottle make its contents change? Although, from what I hear, it does take some skill to give medicine to a monster so weakened that it cannot move.”

Earlier, I tried to give the lykaon a potion, but the creature just let the drops trickle off its tongue. If the same thing happened here, I’d feel bad for Nirrnir, who gave me not just the bleach but also this curative potion, whatever her reason.

“…By the way, Kio, do you have that particular skill?” I asked politely.

The maid promptly snapped, “Of course I do not. Do I look like a stable worker or beast handler to you?”

“N-no, you don’t,” I said meekly. Just in case, I glanced at Argo, but she only shook her head sadly. This one was going to be up to me.

I knelt by the head of the prone lykaon. Its eyes opened just barely, and it made a brief, quiet growl, but nothing more after that.

I suspected that if I tried to drip the liquid into the corner of its mouth, the result would be the same as before. There had to be a way to get it to properly swallow. What if there was something like an eyedropper to stick in its mouth? It would probably just crush it with its powerful jaws.

After some rapid thought, I knew what I would have to do. I popped the cork off with my thumb, then cupped my left hand and poured a bit into my palm.

The sunset-colored liquid was chilly and nearly odorless. Careful not to let it spill, I lifted it toward the lykaon’s snout. But it did not react at all. Perhaps I would need a special skill to do this, after all, I thought.

Just then, the lykaon’s muzzle, which was slightly shorter than a wolf’s, rose just a little. The black nose stretched for my hand and sniffed a few times. I almost spoke to it but held my tongue just in time.

Eventually, the lykaon lifted its head just an inch or two, then extended its tongue toward the liquid in my palm. It lapped at it once, just to check that it wasn’t bad, then tried again a few seconds later, then again.

“Oh…its HP!” Argo exclaimed. I glanced at its cursor and saw that the HP bar was slowly increasing from 10 percent.

Meanwhile, the liquid cupped in my palm was empty, so I quickly added more from the bottle. The lykaon unsteadily lifted itself up, spreading its front paws out. Its nose stuck into my palm from above and noisily lapped at the liquid. It was gone in moments, so I added more.

After three sets of this, the bottle was empty.

I stood up and checked the lykaon’s HP bar; it was all the way full again. I felt relief, but this didn’t mean the problem was entirely solved. Deep in my mind, I heard Kio’s words repeat themselves. So if you heal that lykaon, and it follows its ‘monster’s dignity,’ as you call it, to attack you—would you draw your sword and kill it?

There was no sword at my side right now, but if I opened my window and hit the QUICK CHANGE button, the Sword of Eventide would instantly appear there. The dog—no, monster—in arm’s reach was not a Rusty Lykaon, of which I’d killed dozens in the beta test, but an unfamiliar higher version, a Storm Lykaon. From what I could tell after witnessing its fight against the Bouncy Slater, it wasn’t dangerous enough to be a major threat to us. But I couldn’t be careless: If it showed even the slightest inclination of attacking, I had to equip my sword and demonstrate my answer to Kio’s question.

The fully healed Storm Lykaon stood up, its powerful limbs tensing on the ground, and shook itself. The silver-gray pelt, mottled with black spots, shone in the sunlight like snow. There was no longer any trace of rusty red, and I couldn’t see the wounds where it had been struck with the whip, either.

The lykaon walked in a large curve, the short chain dangling and clanking from its collar. Once it was at a distance of ten feet, it turned toward us. Those brown eyes, the one part of it that was unchanged from before, looked me right in the face.

Its head slowly lowered. The silver fur stood up. Wrinkles appeared on its snout, and I caught a glimpse of sharp teeth.

“…Grrrr…”

The cursor over the growling Storm Lykaon began to flicker, switching back and forth between yellow and a pale shade of red. Bardun Korloy’s taming technique was wearing off.

“Growr!” it barked, right as the cursor turned permanently red.

It wasn’t very deep, but it was certainly a darker shade than I expected. For me to see the cursor this red at level 22, it would have to be the very strongest of all the regular monsters on the seventh floor. At the very least, it had to be much stronger than the Bouncy Slater it fought last night. So why had it struggled so much in the arena?

Then again, Nirrnir said that the lykaon had won four straight battles leading into last night. It would’ve required that poisonous dye to be painted on its fur each of those days, sapping its strength and agility. That would mean the lykaon had just now recovered its true, original power.

And now, following its sense of dignity—or the SAO system’s commands—it was preparing to attack me.

“Kirito.”

“Kii-boy!”

Both women reacted together, Kio behind me and Argo to the right.

I understood their message. They wanted me to draw my sword. It was the right choice to make. Most of my armor was unequipped now, and my Martial Arts skill alone would not be enough to handle the lykaon’s attack, I suspected.

However…

“Hey,” I called out to the growling monster. “You just got your freedom again. And now you’re gonna waste it fighting me and dying? Is that really what you want?”

It was a meaningless question. There wasn’t a single monster in Aincrad that possessed its own independent thought-process program. They only looked like individual creatures; in truth, they were just one part of a massive algorithmic system.

If this situation lasted another five seconds, I would close my window and equip my sword. Decision made, I stared back at the fierce eyes of the majestic creature and slowly counted the seconds in my mind.

One, two, three, four…

“Grr……”

Suddenly, the lykaon stopped growling.

It kept its head low in battle mode but backed away. Once it was a good six or seven yards away, the creature spun on its heels like lightning and ran toward the river.

Its speed was astonishing. It was at least twice as fast as the Rusty Lykaons I’d fought in the beta test. The silvery beast dwindled as it sped away, jumped into the undergrowth along the river, and vanished from sight.

The red cursor was still there for a few seconds, and then that vanished, too. It wasn’t hiding along the riverside but had kept running beyond it—most likely to the northwest.

“……”

I let the tension out of my shoulders, gazing in the direction the Storm Lykaon went.

On my right side, Argo said, “Did it understand what ya said, Kii-boy?”

If only, I thought, shaking my head. “No…Among animal-type monsters, some of the smarter ones like monkeys and dogs will run away when the difference in strength is too great. You know that, of course. I bet it realized it couldn’t beat us.”

“Its cursor was pretty red, though. I was thinkin’ it might be bad news if it turned into a fight.”

“Yeah, I thought the same thing…But if the lykaon was scared enough to run away…”

…That just tells you how dangerous that battle maid behind us is, I thought, finishing the sentence.

For her part, Kio watched the lykaon run off, then noticed my glance and said, “Are you satisfied now, Kirito?”

“Er…well, at the very least, I suppose I don’t regret it…”

It wasn’t the most forceful response, and I thought I caught a hint of exasperation in her eyes, but she was soon as stone-faced as ever. She took the wine bottle back from me, putting it away in her pouch, and announced, “Now you will return with me to Lady Nirrnir’s chamber, where you will explain why you snuck into the Korloy stable and what happened while you were there.”

“Y-yes, of course. I owe you that much,” I said, nodding. I picked up the stopper for the restorative; it was not simply glass but had the weight and density of natural crystal, so I carefully plugged it back into the little bottle and returned it to Kio.

The fact that they brought not only the bleach I asked Argo for but also the healing potion was because Nirrnir ordered Kio to take it, she said. That was what allowed me to save the lykaon, but how had Nirrnir known we would need the healing item? There were other questions I wanted to ask, but first I needed to apologize for my actions and explain them.

“Let’s go, then,” Kio said, and she spun around, apron swaying, as she climbed the green hill behind us.

Argo and I rushed after the trailing white ribbon adorning her black armored skirt. After thirty steps, the Rat whispered to me at a low enough volume that Kio couldn’t hear.

“Hey, Kii-boy. You know how, when you fight the same individual monster for long enough, they start to react to your weapon and sword skills and stuff?”

“Huh? Oh yeah…It happens more often with the humanoid types.”

“Meaning that monsters have the ability to learn, too, just not as much as NPCs. So the longer it lives, and the more battles it experiences, the more customized it becomes as an individual, ya know? So maybe that lykaon didn’t run off on the standard algorithm but made the decision on its own ta stop fighting.”

“Um…Y-yeah, I suppose…” I muttered, contemplating the suggestion. I glanced over at her.

“…Wh-what?”

“Oh…I just realized you were trying to cheer me up…”

Argo made a strange face, lifting her eyebrows and puckering her mouth. The whiskered face paint made it look like she was imitating an actual rat face, and it made me burst out laughing.

“What? Am I not allowed ta cheer you up?” She pouted.

“S-sorry, it’s fine. Thanks…I’ll go with the Argo theory, then.”

“Hmph. Shoulda just done that.”

Up ahead, Kio turned around and arched a questioning eyebrow.